Beauty of the Dark
by Lady Elena Shaw
Summary: *CLOSED* Three years from the Quarter Quell, it's time for the 98th Hunger Games. Maybe it's just badluck, or maybe conspiracy; either way, the tributes are going to experience something no one could have ever prepare them for. Sound interesting enough?
1. Three More Years ft Tribute Form

**Hi guys! Well, I've participated in a lot of these, and I decided I wanted to make one of my own. I've been thinking about it for a while now, and have come up with a great idea for everything. I just need tributes for the Games now. :) The tribute form is underneath this preview of my writing:**

**Violet Hamillton**

Checking my nifty little pocketwatch, I note that I have a good ten minutes before Faythe arrives to pick me up. So, to pass the time, I make my way back inside the house and over to the hallway mirror. Admiring my appearance, I note that it's almost time for another hair cut. My platinum hair was nearly to my shoulders; ugh. I don't know why, but I can't stand having hair touching my shoulders. It's a silly little pet peeve, but it's one that makes sure I get regular hair cuts.

_I do look fabulous._ Other than the length, my hair is curled and styled to perfection. My skin has a soft periwinkle glow to it, my face is symmetrical, and my killer claws fake nails are perfectly in place; as are my four inch eyelashes. The purple eye contacts I wear are getting worn out, but are still usable. _Just have to remember to purchase more from Dr. Beever on the way home._

With the honking of a horn, I know Faythe has arrived. As soon as I open the door, I'm greeted with the sight of her shiny red car, nearly as scarlet as her hair. She smiles at me as I climb in the backseat, careful not to flash anyone. My too-short mini dress was not the easiest thing to manuver around in. Cat also smiles at me from the front seat, her feline sharp teeth flashing their bright smile.

My two best friends are about as different as day and night. Faythe looked much more District-like than either Cat or I; actually, much more District-like than really anyone in Capitol. She has practically no enhancements. Her scarlet, curly hair is all natural; her skin is just plain pale, not being colored or spray-tanned; and her eyes are the same chocolate brown they've always been. Her figure is completely natural, as well as her small height. Cat and I are trying to convince her to at least get height extentions, but she's refusing. The only enhancement she's ever gotten was lazer-eye surgery so she wouldn't have to wear contacts or glasses.

Cat, on the other hand, is the perfect example of Capitol. Conforming to her name, her ears were transformed into a pair similar to a cat's that stuck out the top of her head; her teeth are all sharpened and bleached to perfect white (because somehow cat's always have perfect teeth); she has a white tail sticking out a small hole in her skirt, and her nails are sharpened and shaped to dangerous perfection. Cat also has cute little whiskers on the side of her face, which stretch as far as her curly golden hair.

The difference between my two friends is so extreme it can almost make your head spin.

"So, what do you think the Quarter Quell will be? I heard it's going to be the grandest ever since it's Snow's last year in office." Cat squeaks excitedly from the front seat, and I try not to giggle. It always amuses me that Cat's voice is so squeaky; it reminds me of a mouse, who's worst enemy is a cat. "Who cares? It's still three years away." Faythe growls, and Cat's eyes show slight hurt, as they always do. She's more sensitive than a small child. Faythe gives her an apologetic smile, and just like that Cat's back to her normal peppy self.

Faythe didn't support the Hunger Games like Cat and I did. She always sympathized with the tributes, and cried for the deceased. I tried to tell her she could sponsor the tributes she would cry for to save them, but her response was that they'd die later on anyway. She never saw the fun or the sport in things. Then again, anything anti-pacifist was a terrible thing in her eyes; even eating meat.

"Well, I was just wondering. I mean, don't the presidents always try to do something special for their last year?" Cat continues on, and I notice the tightening in Faythe's face. "I'm with Faythe; who cares? We've got _three years_ until the Quell. Now, what do you think of my new dress?" I ask, trying to change the subject. Faythe shoots me a thankful smile through the mirror, and Cat begins to compliment me on my mini-dress.

My distraction seems to have worked, as the conversation keeps changing fast enough to give you whip-lash, courtesy of Cat. She tries to bring up the Quell again, but I quickly remind her that we have to get through the 78th and 79th Hunger Games first. As we arrive at the pizzeria, I hear Cat mutter "three more years" as she shuts her door, resulting in the slight-slamming of Faythe's.

_Just three more years._

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**And there's the little preview! Yes, this is the 98th Hunger Games. :) So now, since you know what my writing style is, please fill out this lovely tribute form. ****Of course, if you would be so kind. :) Please no tributes that have already been submitted into other stories. Should I accept your tribute, then find out they're entered into millions of other games, I will kill them off imediately. I want ORIGINAL characters. Thanks guys :) **

Name:

Age:

Sex:

District:

Appearance:

Personality:

Family:

Friends:

History:

Strengths:

WeaknessES:

OPTIONAL:

Token:

Reaping Outfit:

Romance?:

Alliance?:

**Please don't give any interview/chariot outfits or quotes. I already have most in mind :) I may say now that I reserve the right to reject your tribute if I want to.  
**

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**Here are what I have the districts as:**

District One - Luxury Items for Capitol

District Two - Stone Quarries & Peacekeeper Training

District Three - Electronics & Technology

District Four - Aquaculture & Fishing

District Five - Plastics & Rubber

District Six - Electricity & Glass Blowing

District Seven - Lumber & Paper

District Eight - Textiles & Clothing

District Nine - Medicine

District Ten - Livestock & Herding

District Eleven - Agriculture

District Twelve - Coal Mining

**Thank you everyone for your lovely tributes, and I look forward to working with them. :) You can either PM me them, or comment.**


	2. Devil's Mistress ft Tribute Update

**Hey guys! The FINAL tribute list is below this other preview of mine (to keep from getting reported). :)**

**Violet Hamillton**

Once inside the little pizzeria, we quickly take our usual seats. Coming here was practically a sacred ritual for us; every Monday was pizza day, and there was no better place to get pizza than Quevo's. We don't even have to order; the staff here knows our regular by heart we come so often. So we sit and wait. Cat is once again flinging out possible conversation subjects, seeing if any stick. She's definitely not a girl who enjoys silence.

Somehow, we come to discuss the new boy in school; Kesar, I think. Cat goes on and on about how hot his tattoos are and how well they contrast with his bronze skin. In any case, he has definitely made her hot list, which also meant he was on her hit list. Any 'hot' guy within a few miles is fair game to her, regardless of their dating status. Faythe and I occasionally throw in our thoughts or opinions, but they're almost completely unnecessary. Cat is one of those people that can go on- just talking, not even including them in the conversation- for hours as long is someone is there to listen. They don't have to give a response or feedback; just listen.

When our pizza comes, I laugh, as I always do, at Faythe's vegetarian version of pizza. This sauce is some sort of organic crap, and the cheese is fake. On top, instead of a lovely selection of meat, was spinach and black olives. The mere thought of how it would taste causes me to gag, and Faythe shoots me a glare while Cat laughs. "Laugh all you want now, but vegetarians live longer. When your both fifty and suffering from high cholesterol and heart problems, I'll be healthy and fit as a fiddle." She says, but that just causes Cat to laugh even harder, and even I cannot suppress a giggle.

"I've always been more of a 'in the moment' kind of person myself." Cat says as she smugly takes a giant chomp out of her meat lover's pizza; this time Faythe makes the face of disgust. "I'm in agreement with Cat this time. Meat = good; veggies = _bad_." I say before taking a slightly smaller bite out of the same pizza. She rolls her eyes at us before nibbling at her own pizza.

"_See_, it's so bad you don't even take a regular sized bite out of it!" Cat says, and I do a spit-tank with my soda because of laughter, and it hits Cat dead-on. "Oh Vi! This was a new shirt! And my hair's sticky now!" She whines, and I see that Faythe has a case of the 'I-must-not-laugh' snickers. "Sorry Cat." I say while standing up. Cat quickly makes her way to the bathroom, and I follow in pursuit.

She whines more and more about her 'ruined' clothes, and I offer to get her new ones. It honestly isn't that big of a deal, but this seems to make Cat happier. We do our best to remove as much soda off of her as possible, but practically have to wash the tips of her hair.

We're just about done when I hear the door open. Expecting to find Faythe, we both turn our heads in that direction. But instead comes in Heiress Simpson, a girl from school. All of us, particularly Cat, hated her because of her 'better than you' attitude and ditzy tendencies. Of course, she had a reason for her snotty attitude; her father was a gamemaker, about two under the head gamemaker. Heiress got to know everything before anyone else, and she flaunted her 'knowledge' to no end.

"Oh, hey girls." She says with a fake smile. I give one back, as does Cat, but her's is more of a crossover between a smirk and sarcastic smile. I elbow her stomach quickly; the last thing we need is one of the populars hating our guts. I do _not_ want to spend my senior year hiding out in closets and bathrooms.

She yelps slightly, and sends me a glare, but I ignore it and turn back to Heiress.

"Hi." I say with a small wave. Her devil red lips part and a flash of her vampire-like teeth appears to us. "What happened here?" she asks with fake sympathy, starring at Cat's stained shirt. "Violet spilled her soda on me." Cat says with a shrug, though I can see anger hidden in her eyes.

"What a pity," Heiress says while smiling at me, "it was probably for the best. I mean, now you have a reason to exchange your last season clothes." I have to grab Cat's curled fist and hold it behind her back to keep her from attacking. I cannot, however, control the mean glare on her face. Heiress, however, just laughs it off.

"Retract the claws, kitty, or you might loose a whisker." Once again, she flashes her pearly white fangs at us, and clicks her teeth. Cat growls in response, and I feel helpless. "You're not the only one with sharp teeth." She growls, and I can see blood slowly falling from her palm. She's squeezing her fists too tight. Heiress sees this as well.

"Yes. But mine are designed to take a nice little chunk out of your pretty little neck."

If I haven't been forward in saying this, let me do so now; Heiress is a vampire. Not literally, but she's one of those girls who have seen _Midnight_ one too many times, and it got to her head. The next day her skin is bleached and crystallized white, her teeth are morphed into fangs, she's wearing blood red contacts, and her hair is a matching color. She can be a fairly terrifying sight actually. My little brothers are terrified to go anywhere near her.

"Bite me and I'll shred your face to pieces. I hope vamps don't need their eyes to see." Cat hisses, and I deliberately step inbetween the two girls to keep a cat-fight from happening… no pun intended. "Silly girl. Vampires don't need their eyesight. We're like bats. _We live in the dark_." She says the last part as if it's some sort of inside joke, but neither Cat nor I pause to interpret it's meaning. We're out of the bathroom faster than two District kids caught stealing a loaf of bread.

"Where's the Holy Water when you need it." Cat growls when she slides down into her seat next to Faythe. No words are exchanged; Faythe knows what happened. _Heiress: the devil's mistress._

**Ah, **_**Midnight**_** *snickers*.**

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**District One - Luxury Items for Capitol:  
**Male: Rhyno Kazarian- 18  
Female: Mystic Spark- 18

**District Two - Stone Quarries & Peacekeeper Training:  
**Male: Armor Valentino- 18  
Female: Sicily Vega- 18

**District Three - Electronics & Technology:  
**Male: Riden Snowe- 18**  
**Female: Olivia Harmon- 13

**District Four - Aquaculture & Fishing:  
**Male: Clayton "Clay" Shipping- 14**  
**Female: Evangeline Lhome- 16

**District Five - Rubber & Plastics:  
**Male: Roland James- 18**  
**Female: Delia Bensi- 16

**District Six - Electricity & Glass Blowing:  
**Male: Naller Versteeg- 16  
Female: Tzeitel Scarborough- 16

**District Seven - Lumber & Paper:  
**Male: _Jayse Namberin- 12 *mine* (bloodbath)_**  
**Female: Briar Norwood- 16

**District Eight - Textiles & Clothing:  
**Male: Tobias Criss- 17  
Female: January "Ary" Lilton- 18

**District Nine - Medicine:  
**Male: Kendall Brant- 18  
Female: _Raya Carmichael- 14 *mine* (bloodbath)_

**District Ten - Livestock & Herding:  
**Male: Leiter Crane- 18  
Female: Barley Dawson- 16

**District Eleven - Agriculture:  
**Male: Alpin Rosse- 15  
Female: Alexa Thorn- 15

**District Twelve - Coal Mining:  
**Male: Asaph Lore- 18**  
**Female: Neko Reoko- 14

**And we're full. The two open tribute spots I decided to fill with bloodbaths, making my job that much easier :) ****This is going to be the breakdown of chapters:  
**

**Reapings/Goodbyes - Districts 1 & 12  
Train Rides - Districts 2 & 11  
Chariot Prep/Chariots - Districts 3 & 10  
Training Day One - Districts 4 & 9  
Training Day Two - Districts 5 & 8  
Training Day Three - Districts 6 & 7  
Interviews - Caesar & Capitol **

**I'm debating on whether having a roof top chapter, but as of right now, this is the layout. And if all goes well, we should be in the arena at Chapter 10 :) If you want a roof-top chapter or don't want one, vote on my poll. It's on my profile page :)  
**


	3. District Reapings 1 & 12

*******REAPINGS*******

_**DISTRICT ONE**_

_Rhyno Kazarian _

The sun burns my eyelids in the morning light. I groan and try to roll over, but the mirror closet only refects the shine. _How does she sleep like this?_ I wonder as I grudgingly sit up in the bed. Blinking doesn't seem to help my state at first, but slowly the light becomes bearable. Finally, my eyes scan the room. White walls, mirror closet, _two_ extra dressers; all the makings of an average District One girl's bedroom.

I glance to my left, and find the sight of a naked girl twisted and tangled in her covers and pillows. Her light blonde hair -most likely fake- shines in the sunlight, and is almost painful to look at. _What is her name again? Glitz... Glimmer... Grace...? It started with 'G'._ That is all I can remember about her. I quickly get up and scan the room for my clothes. I need to get out of here soon, if I'm going to make it back home to change, and _still_ be in time for the Reapings. This is my year, after all.

My pants are over by the closet, and my shirt is hanging over the edge of the bed. Pulling my stuff back on, I take one last glance at the mess of a girl on the bed. I debate waking her before my departure, but decide against it. I don't even remember her name; that would only make for an awkward conversation.

I debate going out her room door, but decided against it as well. Her parents might be downstairs for all I know. So I make my way over to the window. I'm in a second story bedroom, I note, and scan around for anything to help me down. Luckily, not too far away is a big enough tree to help me get away. Slowly, I slide open the window and step out onto the thin railing. My long arms stretch out and grap the closest branch to me.

Now, I'm no expert tree climber, but I know to hold on and move slowly. I'm not from District Seven, where they swing through trees daily. Carefully, I make my way down the branch and to the trunk of the tree. There are a few more branches below that take me to about seven feet off the ground. I brace my knees before making the jump, and land easily on my feet. Looking back at the window, I notice I left the window open. _Oh well._

My walk to home is a fairly short one. Turns out, I lived less than ten minutes away from G-what's-her-face's house. That might make for a bad confrontation later, but I don't linger on it. I don't have time to. Besides, I won't be living in this house much longer. In a few months time, I'll have my own home in the Victor's Village.

To say I've been training for the Hunger Games is an understatement; I've been training since I was able to crawl. Along with a binkie, I was given a dart gun. Harmless, but it hurt like hell. By the time I was six, I knew how to work a whip to my advantage, and when I was ten, I could successfully defeat a group of five other ten year olds on my own. Now? Now, I can slice up a dummy within ten seconds, spear a target dead on, and beat the living hell out of anyone.

My house is fairly large, and apart of the nicer side of the district. The only nicer houses available are in the Victor's Village, which we'll soon be in. The last member of our family that won the games was my grandfather, Clark. But since then, our family gene has produced mainly girls, who have no place in the Hunger Games. Only the sons got to train. The women of the family are meant to be housewives and care for the children. The men do the work.

As I step inside, I see my younger brother Lyon, being messed around by our mother. Father is probably still at work. And here comes June, my little sister, flying down the stairs. Her usual pin-drop straight red hair has been curled, and has taken a few extra inches of length away. "Hey short-stack." I say as I try to ruffle her hair, knowing she'd hate it. June dodges easily and sends me one of her glares. For being only 5'3, she was about as fiery as her hair. I guess it's true that redheads have hot tempers.

"Asshole." June says as she grabs a bagel from the kitchen. Her black-brown eyes continue their glare, as I never leave her sight, even as she's making eggs. "I know I'm good looking, but do you have to make it so obvious?" I say with a smirk. She waves her middle finger like a flag before taking her breakfast up the stairs. I chuckle as Lyon goes bounding up the stairs after her. For a little five year old boy, who supposedly thinks all girls have cooties, he adores our sister like no other. Mother follows after him, but stops at the top and turns back to me. "Rhyno, the Reapings are in two hours. Get ready, please." I smile and nod before I myself make my way upstairs.

While passing by June's room, I see mother trying to grab Lyon, who keeps dodging her swiftly, all the while June is screaming for them both to get out. I have to smile at the scene. My family would be one of the best reality show on television. Forget the Hunger Games; 'Keeping up with the Kazarians' would bring in ten times more views than any game.

My room is the only one smaller than the master bedroom. It also has a connected bathroom, convenient for mornings like this. I strip down quickly and turn on the shower, trying to refocus my mind on what's important. In the matter of hours, I'll be on my way to Capitol. And in a few months, I'll be back home here in District One, the new Hunger Games champion.

_Mystic Spark_

Dressing up is _not_ something I enjoy to do. I'd much rather spend this morning in the training gym, getting all the extra time in I can before I go to Capitol. But today are the Reapings, so instead of enjoying sparing with Emerald, or spearing the head of a dummy with a javelin, I'm stuck with my mother and hand maid, being forced through the torture of 'being a woman'.

I don't see the point of forcing me to dress up. It's not like I'm like all the other girls in District One; beautiful, gorgeous, stunning... those words didn't describe me. In fact, I've been told sometimes that I'm slightly repulsing. I guess if I didn't have all my scars I'd be pretty. But I like my scars. They're a testament to all my hard work and training.

I feel a needle poke my side through the thin fabric, and let out a squeal. Mother gives me an annoyed look from the mirror reflection. "Mystic, champions _do not_ squeal like guinea pigs. They don't even complain when injured. Toughen up!" And for extra emphasis, she tugs on my hair slightly, making me want to shove the stupid brush up her ass.

Rude and crude to do to one's own mother, but at this point, she deserves it.

Another thirty minutes of torture and we're ready to go. My younger sister, Jewel, is already waiting for us by the door, as is Flare. Since mother was with me, Evanescent must have helped her dress. Jewel was perfectly capable of doing almost anything on her own, but if she could, she'd have everyone else do it all for her. The saying 'if you want something done right, do it yourself' does not apply to her. She's perfectly content with doing nothing while everyone else around slaves away. Such an attitude will never win her the Hunger Games.

"Evane! _Where_ is my apple!" _A prime example._ Jewel's poor hand maid comes scurrying out of the kitchen with a bright red apple in hand. She hands it to Jewel with a meek curtsy, and her messy bun of brown hair falls apart. "Ugh. Clean yourself up. Do you not strive to be presentable in my presence, Evane?"

"Sorry Miss Spark. It won't happen again." Evanescent says while backing away quickly. She looks as if she's about to fall over her own feet she's moving so fast. Mother does not comment on Jewel's outrageous behavior, so neither do I. I'm not her mother; it's not my place to judge.

We walk quickly to the square, where the Reapings have just started. To feign the mother/daughter relationship that we supposedly had, mother kisses my forehead and whispers good luck before sending me on to my section. I watch as she does the same thing for Flare and Jewel, though there's are unnecessary. They wouldn't be going anywhere for at least another year.

The Treaty of Treason is boring and long, as always. But I stand through it and patiently wait for our Escort Copper to take the stage. She does not disappoint when she comes flying across the stage with bronze hair, a gold dress, and _copper_ skin. It all actually clashes terribly, but she seems to think it works.

"Hello District One! Welcome to the Reapings of the Ninety-Eight Hunger Games! I _just know_ we're going to bring home another victor this year!" She says the same line every year. But in her defense, our District does have one of the highest probabilities of returning home. In any case, she's already moved on, so there's really no need or time to linger on the subject any longer.

"Let's get started, shall we? Ladies first!" She says as she reaches for the first reaping bowl. Copper tries to draw out the suspense as long as possible, but it's really of no use. No one here cares if they're reaped. And on the off chance that they do, is a volunteer in the crowd -ready to take their place- in a heartbeat. And that's going to be me this year. _I'm the volunteer._

"Galaxy Mundez!" And no sooner has the words left her mouth that I shout "I volunteer!" and race for the stage. The original girl doesn't even move, at least as far as I see. She's still out in the crowd somewhere, probably fuming if I have to guess. But I don't care.

I take the stage with pride and march straight up to Copper. Her eyes judge me and follow my scar marks before her lips twitch into a slight frown. She's used to drop-dead-gorgeous tributes, not girls with too many marks on her face, neck, and really anywhere to count.

"What's your name?" She asks almost reluctantly. "Mystic Spark." Her look to me remains the same as she observes me for a few more moments. She still doesn't know quite what to make of me I take it, and I actually find slight joy in this fact.

"Well, let's go to our gentlemen now." Copper says as she hurries away from me, and I give my best poker face to the camera. It's always best not to show any emotion on Reaping day. The Capitol viewers mark you as 'mysterious', and they loved those tributes. _Mysterious Mystic_; I could get used to that.

"Seed Orptyn!" I see the figure of an average-sized boy with slight muscles start moving to the stage, but he's soon knocked out of the way by a much bigger, much taller boy. This new boy, with honey gold hair and chocolate brown eyes, takes to the stage. "My name is Rhyno Kazarian, and I volunteer as the male tribute." He says with a cool smile, and I immediately see his angle. He was going to be charming.

"Everyone, give it up for our two tributes Mystic Spark and Rhyno Kazarian!" Copper shouts, and the average amount of applause is given, as it is every year. Rhyno and I shake hands, and I try to decided whether he'll be a friend or foe. But when I see slight repulsion -or was it dislike?- in his eyes, I know it'll be the later. And at that moment, I mark the name _Rhyno Kazarian_ on my kill list.

_**DISTRICT TWELVE**_

_Asaph Lore_

Chloe and I walk hand and hand through the shadows of the Seam. It's early morning, with the sun barely peaking over the top of the shag houses. It's nice and quiet, and I find myself staring off at the horizon. Right now, everything is perfect.

Chloe lets out a long sigh, and I turn to question her with my eyes. "I wish it could stay like this forever; just you and me here, together, and not have to worry about the Reapings." She says while staring at the ground. I gingerly lift her head and bring my mouth upon hers. "I know how terrible this time of year is for us -for everyone, really- but we'll make it through, just like we did last year, and the year before, and the year before _that_." This causes a smile, but her eyes still hold sadness and insecurity. "Hey. We'll be fine, Chloe. You're not getting reaped, and neither am I."

"But how do you know for sure? We're both eighteen. This is our last year of going through the Reapings. But this is also the year when we have the most slips in the bowl. Hell, my name alone is in there at least a dozen times! And what about you? Did you take any tesseraes?" Her green eyes hold no escape, and I feel guiltier than ever for being a merchant child.

"No," I admit, "I didn't have to."

"Good. I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost you." Her tiny hands wrap around me tightly as she buries her head into my chest. I stroke her soft brown hair in an attempt to comfort. "And I don't know what I'd do if I lost you. But neither of us are going to loose each other. Ok? Look at me Chloe. This is our last year; we're going to come out on top. We're going to make it, no matter what." Her big green eyes finally look back up with me. She is happier than before, but I still see fear lurking not too far behind.

"I love you Asaph."

"I love you too Chloe."

We walk in silence the rest of the way to my house. Mother had already mentioned that she had tailored Chloe a Reaping dress in her spare time, and it would be an insult if she _didn't_ wear it. But luckily, Chloe didn't care. She and my mother got along very well, and Chloe would do anything for her. If mom gave her a giant yellow tracker-jacker dress to wear, she would do so without complaint. She'd probably even thank her for it. But Chloe was just perfect like that.

My house is fairly nice for District Twelve, considering I am a merchant child, though I certainly don't look it. Instead of the stereotypical blonde hair and blue eyes, I have ebony hair and hazel eyes, suiting me much more for the Seam than the Merchants. I guess that's why I've bonded so much with the kids down there.

Mother greets us at the door, and immediately pulls Chloe away and off to her room, much to my displeasure. She hollers something over her shoulder about myself getting ready, and then for me to make sure that Azriel is ready. Inside I mentally groan.

My twin and I do not have the best relationship. We haven't for a while now. Azriel and I are polar opposites; he prefers to be lazy, I like hard work; he cuts corners, I make sure to do it right; he's a self-serving person, I try to help out others whenever I can. And the differences don't stop there. But if I try to name them all, I'll miss the Reapings.

I decide to deal with Azriel later, and instead head to my room. I had chosen my clothes the night before, so getting ready didn't take me long. A red dress shirt, with black dress shoes, pants, and a tie for extra measure. Now if only I could fix my hair... Forget it. It'd take too long. So I just grab the brush on top of my nightstand and run it through a few times. The brush does virtually nothing, and my hair is the same messy mop it always is.

Dragging my feet out the door and through the hall, I eventually find myself at my brother's door. I knock first, but there's no answer. So instead of doing it again and wasting my effort, I let myself in. Azriel is still sleeping, of course. Did I really expect him not to be?

I lean down and grip the underside of his mattress, then with one swift tug, Az goes tumbling to the floor. He awakens with a startle, and I can't help but smile. There isn't many times when I have the pleasure of seeing my brother with such a surprised and slightly-scared expression on his face, I might as well enjoy it. "Time to get up _Azzie_. The Reapings start in an hour." I say with a laugh.

Azriel glares up at me with an expression of hatred, and not just because of how I chose to wake him. He hates when I refer to him as 'Azzie'. It was his fault though, really. I had picked up the nickname from one of his old girlfriends, who made the mistake of calling him 'Azzie' when I actually met her. Since then, he has never lived down the nickname, and he probably never will.

Azriel tries to throw his clock at me, but the idiot didn't unplug it from the wall, and it barely went two feet. I laugh again as I leave his room and make my way back to the front foyer. Perhaps if I'm lucky, Chloe will be ready to go as well.

But no one has perfect luck. And for the next half hour, I am forced to wait with my father for mother and Chloe. Even Azriel joins us after fifteen minutes. The wait is worth it though, when I first catch sight of her coming down the hallway.

Chloe has on a floor length, blue-gray gown with a strapless top. Everything falls loose from the waist down, while above that is very careful and delicate stitching that must have taken a week at the least. But it's perfect, and she looks like an angel, much less a Seam girl. And right now I know that everything will be ok, no matter what happens later today. It'll all work out, and in the end, I'll still have my angel.

_Neko Reoko_

It's about mid morning, and there's a nice breeze blowing through the air. But get to high, and it actually feels a bit chilly. How do I know this? Because I'm perched outside of an attic window on a tree. The breeze is blowing a lot stronger up here than it was on the ground, and I'm wishing I had thought to grab my jacket.

Katana is further out on the limb, making her way to the window. Luckily, this tree takes us pretty close, to where it's only a few feet away. There are some trees that put us at more than five feet away from the edge of the lower roof. And your only choices are to turn back or jump.

There's a slight noise from below, causing both myself and Katana to freeze in place. Carefully, we look down to find the old mayor making his way out the door and down to the square. Though the Reapings still didn't start for a good half hour, it was always customary that the mayor arrive before any of the towns people.

His appearance causes Katana to send me a hard glare. It had been my job to make sure he had already left. But in my defense, he had left before. He must have just come back. _I wonder if he left something behind._

Katana's thin and agile frame move soundlessly at they make it to the edge of the limb. Then, she carefully slides down to where she's hanging in mid air. She swings back and forth over and over again until she has built up enough momentum behind her to secure the jump. And when she does, she lands perfectly and on her feet, further proving my theory that she is part cat.

I follow in suit, and repeat the same process that Katana did, landing me right next to her. My landing is not as graceful, but it does the job. Looking back, I try to determine how difficult it will be to come back out, just in case the old man tries to return home yet again. I forgot how high up the attic was at the mayor's house we hadn't been here in so long. The heights used to bother me slightly, but not anymore. When you spend the majority of your time up in trees, breaking into houses through the attics, you get used to all that comes with it, including the height.

Katana and I slide effortlessly in through the unlocked attic window, and are immediately greeted with the smell of musty air. Granted, it wasn't the worst one we had been in, but it certainly wasn't the best either. Which, come to think of it, was really weird. You'd think the mayor's house would be the nicest. I guess no one pays attention to the attics.

The floorboards are squeaky, but being a thief teaches you to be light on your feet, and to think light thoughts. We make it down the stairs and into the main home easily, where we split up and start collecting items. The key to being a good thief is taking things no one will miss, or likely even notice is missing. Small things, like paperweights, rings, and maybe even a book or too. And when it comes to food, you only take in portions. It's easier to come back later to get whatever else you need because they don't even know the first amount is missing.

That's what Katana is doing; getting food. She's in charge of our meals, while I go for the could-be valuables. I search the house, and pick out a few things that will go unnoticed, or are small enough that he'll just think he lost them. So when I pick out everything I think would be best, I meet Katana by the backdoor, where she has a small bag of food in her hands.

We sneak out the backdoor quickly, and make a dash down the street. Stealing is a crime punishable by death, and I for one have no plans on dying today. We run and run until we feel a comfortable enough distance away to slow our pace to a walk. Since everyone was probably already at the Reapings, we feel certain that no one has seen our theft.

We walk the rest of the way to the Reapings, and arrive rather late. Beffie Trinket -Effie Trinket's daughter- our escort, had already called the guys name. I know this because there is a tall, albeit lanky guy standing on the stage. _Weird. Beffie always calls the girls first._

As Katana and I slide into the fourteen year olds section undetected, I take more time to study our new male tribute. If I have to guess, he is probably an eighteen year old. Which actually, really sucks. He was one year away from being free, and then he got Reaped. I'd hate to be in his position.

He looks terrified -and who could blame him?- but what confuses me is that his eyes never leave the girl's eighteen section. His ebony hair and hazel eyes mark him more for a Seam-dweller than a merchant kid, but I don't think I've ever seen him down there before. And he doesn't have the almost customary black hair gray eyes like most Seam kids do. Like Katana does, and like I do, really. The only difference I have from regular Seam people are my amber eyes.

While I'm still evaluating our male tribute, Beffie calls out the female tributes name. What was it again? There are whispers all around and I try to scan the crowd for the unfortunate girl. But then Beffie repeats the name, _"Neko Reoko?"_ and it hits me like a ton of bricks.

_I'm going into the Hunger Games. Me._

* * *

**Hey guys! The Reapings are done! And I couldn't be more thrilled :) How do you think I did? I think it could have been better, but I'm satisfied with the final product. Now, onto a more important matter: SPONSORING.**

**Yes, I'm going to have tribute sponsoring, and this is how it'll work: You MAY NOT sponsor your own tribute. Each chapter you review (starting now), you will earn two sponsor points. You may hold onto these points, or invest them into a tribute. Once you invest them, they cannot be used for any other tribute. Once you have enough sponsor points invested in a tribute, you can send them gifts. If the tribute you are sponsoring dies, you WILL NOT get your sponsor points back. Sound good?**

**Along with reviewing, you can also answer my trivia questions for two extra sponsor points. The first correct answer, whether from PM or review, gets the points. If you continually get the questions right, your sponsor points will build up quite a bit before the first actual arena chapter. Here's the firs one:**

_Trivia Question #1: The book series The Secret Circle is about a group of what?_

**And that's it! I hope to get the next chapter out (the train rides) by next Wednesday, but I can't say for sure that it will be. Oh! And I created a forum for this story :) Just go to my profile for the link. It will mainly talk about my progress in the story, but I might give away some interesting details too. And I have a poll I want you guys to vote in as well. So go check it out! :)**

**xoxoElenaxoxo**


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